On Romance
by bandwitch
Summary: A series of what will eventually be thirty ficlets that I am writing for a challenge on the different aspects of Padme and Anakin's romance. Will be everything from enlightening to upsetting. PadmeAnakin, ratings change depending on the fic. ON HIATUS.


Hi all! This drabble will kick off thirty that I will post. They will be based on different prompts provided for be from the community 30 Romances on Livejournal. The prompt for this one is _cold feet. _Please enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to the Star Wars movies/franchise. It all belongs to George Lucas and his associates.

* * *

The setting sun cast an ethereal glow throughout the large house and the grassy fields nearby. It poured through the windows in shafts of light to stain the wooden floors with shades of red, orange and yellow. The lacy white tablecloth which had been thrown a bit haphazardly onto the marble table seemed to absorb the shimmers of color. An air of bliss and sanctuary encased the whole room.

This was soon interrupted, however, by the harsh footfalls of Padme Amidala as she paced down the adjourning hallway for what seemed to her to be the millionth time. A lace veil covered her dark hair and her long white dress swept the floor as she stumbled through the room to finally collapse upon an old chair near the window, which gave a creak of protest as her weight settled into the seat.

"I can't do this," she murmured, her eyes hazy with unshed tears. "I can't. This is just…wrong. I never should have said yes; I never should have agreed; this is just…I can't. No."

She buried her head in her hands and allowed a muffled choke to escape her before she wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand.

"I won't cry…I won't. I'm strong and I'll get through this." An air of determination passed over her for a few moments before her body crumpled and her hands cradled her head once more.

"This is just wrong. He's…he's not even supposed to get married! What if we're discovered; what if he's kicked out of the Order; what if…" Her eyes widened with her sudden thought. "What if we have children!? Oh god…" She slumped back into the chair and finally allowed a single tear to slide slowly down her face. It slid off the end of her chin and dropped onto the fabric of her dress, leaving a hardly visible blotch of wetness.

The sudden realization of what she was about to do had hit her almost an hour ago as she had been fixing her veil onto her head. Entering a relationship with Anakin – Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi – had been bad enough, but agreeing to marry him…Padme didn't even want to think about the consequences.

She could never have refused him at the time, though. They'd been lying together on Padme's couch in the exhausted, euphoric atmosphere that came with them having just made love. Anakin's replacement fingers were entwined with Padme's. Her bare breasts were pressed against his sweaty chest as he nuzzled her neck. After a moment's pause, he'd nipped his way up to her ear and, his voice low and husky, murmured, "Marry me, Padme."

She'd started, pulling her body slightly away from his to look him right in the eyes, disbelief etched on every feature of her face. "Marry you?! Ani," and here she let out a little laugh, half wondering if he was joking, "we can't marry. You know that. We aren't even supposed to be doing this. I can't…"

Her voice trailed off as if it had been sucked right from her mouth by the blackness of the night. The once hopeful and loving look on his face as he absorbed the impact of her rejection had crumpled into a mask of silence and hurt. His eyes bore right into her, seeing past her startled orbs, past her tousled hair and right into her core. They seemed to be imploring her, begging her.

She could not think of a single thing to say, and they elapsed into silence. Her fingers stroked his back, ridden with small scars from various fights, as if telling him to be reasonable and think things through.

Finally, Anakin broke the silence and a chain of words tumbled out of his mouth in a tone that Padme had never heard him use before, needy and desperate and loving all rolled into one.

"Padme, I've been thinking and I've realized that I can't live without this, without you; I don't even know how I managed to live without it before, it means so damn much to me and you mean so damn much to me and I need this, I need it. It's like breathing, it's so important! Please, Padme, I need you to do this, I love you Padme, please."

Padme stared at her lover in shock. Every word he had said had been laced with such emotion that she could feel tears coming to her eyes before she could stop them. She hurriedly looked away from Anakin, brushing the wetness away before he could see.

Taking a deep breath, Padme let her head fall onto his shoulder. She exhaled, then inhaled the smell of Anakin – the aroma of sweat and dirt and hard work and tree bark and something else she couldn't quite name, something that comforted her and excited her all at once. The smell was so familiar, so pleasant – it smelled like home.

She closed her eyes and let herself fall into his arms. It was a moment before she realized that he was shaking. He was nervous, she realized. He needed an answer. As she felt his heart beat quickly against her back – tapping out a soothing _bum-bum, bum-bum_ rhythm against her skin; the same heart that loved her, that lived for her, that needed her – she realized she had her answer.

She pushed herself up from his arms and cupped his face in her hands. She was startled to see tears welling in his eyes. In all her time with Anakin Skywalker, she had never seen him cry.

Smiling softly, she brought her lips to his and lightly kissed him. His hands reached around to wrap around her back, seeking comfort from her warm skin, and she brushed a stray strand of hair away from his face before gently taking one of his hands into hers. She clasped it, entwining their fingers, gently stroking the rough skin. She lifted it to her mouth and took his ring finger to her lips, sucking gently on the flesh and twirling her tongue around the skin before trailing kisses down to the knuckle. At this she stopped and looked directly into his eyes.

"Yes. I'll marry you, Anakin. I will."

He'd smiled at her then, a glorious smile the likes of which he rarely displayed, all teeth and dimples and light in his eyes, and a relieved…well, something that could only be described as a giggle escaped from his lips. Ignoring his exhaustion, he'd gently pushed Padme down to the couch and began to kiss her, long and hard on her mouth, and then make his way lower, and lower…

Pulling herself from the cavern of her memories, Padme realized she had started crying again, but not from doubt – she was crying because she had ever doubted. She knew that the rules of the Jedi Order and the scrutiny of the Galactic Senate would pose problems for her and Anakin. She knew, too, that they would have to work hard to even spend a night together in the future. She realized that Anakin would be gone most of the time and that she would be busier than ever in the Senate, with all members having the Clone Wars and Count Dooku and General Grevious weighing heavily on their consciences.

But Padme realized that she also knew something else. She knew that she loved Anakin, loved him more than anything; she would do anything for him, anything to see even the tiniest of smiles grace his lips. And she knew that Anakin loved her, that he needed her as much as she needed him.

All doubts gone from her mind, she stood up from the chair and proceeded to make her way down the hallway, a sense of mingling nervousness and happiness almost overpowering her, emotions familiar to every bride.

And for once in her life, Padme Amidala, former teenaged Queen of Naboo and current serious, priority-driven Galactic Senator, decided that emotions were more important than rules. For today, she was stripped of all her titles, all her emotional walls, and all the regulations she followed were dust under her white silk slippers. Padme was a bride, and Anakin was her groom, and they were people. Not Senators, not Jedi, not politicians or rule-enforcers or officials. Simply people – people who loved each other.

As she opened the door and nervously lifted her eyes from the ground to meet Anakin, the setting sun blinded her to everything except the man standing in front of her – looking, she noticed, just as nervous as she did. He blushed slightly upon seeing her outfit, and hesitantly extended a hand to her.

She didn't know exactly why, but she couldn't resist the impulse to throw her head back and laugh; and then Anakin was chortling along with her, and she could hear Artoo in the background beeping away, and Threepio was asking everyone what was so funny, and her fingers extended towards his and he pulled her into his arms and for the moment, it all was enough.

* * *

_when people keep repeating  
that you'll never fall in love  
when everybody keeps retreating  
but you can't seem to get enough  
let my love open the door  
to your heart.  
-_pete townshend. 


End file.
